


liam, love

by st_elsewhere



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Domestic Fluff, Humor, M/M, alpha chris hemsworth, idris is tom's ex, liam is hiddlesworth kid, liam labbu tom but idolizes chris, omega tom hiddleston
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-16 23:51:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_elsewhere/pseuds/st_elsewhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>title says it all.</p><p>or, in which i planned to write a spin-off from tom's POV but ended up exploring more about liam and his undying love for his papa tom and sending daddy chris off to afghanistan. i promise mr. elba is likeable.</p><p>sequel/spin-off sort of to: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/1351051">could you be loved (standalone).</a> you probably need to read CYBL first in order to get a glimpse of hiddlesworth family dynamic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	liam, love

**Author's Note:**

> hell-oh again.  
> so imma still tryna to test how this works. do understand this is me giving only like 49% of my ability to present you a fun fic ehe he he.
> 
> also thanks for the response for CYBL. as always kudos and comments are greatly encouraged and appreciated. i hope you enjoy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“what is ‘deployed’?”

 

tom pauses mid-speech while liam continues ordering chris to give a darker shade to the otherwise baby blue ocean. chris hums at liam’s question regarding the beginning of the _talk_ they’re currently having. it was tom’s idea to bring up the matter after liam’s favorite spaghetti meatball dinner, because liam is the dearest when he’s not denied of his favorite food. tonight is spaghetti meatball dinner for eight days in a row, which goes according to plan. tom’s been rehearsing the talk in his head so many times where liam never interrupts.

 

but liam just did.

 

and that didn’t go according to plan.

 

tom watches his alpha giving unnecessary pressure to the midnight blue crayon stick. there’s a sudden ache in his chest as he looks at the sight of liam settled comfortably on chris’ lap with chris obediently helping liam’s art homework—mainly because liam doesn’t know, not yet anyway, that this week will be the last time he’ll be able to play-fight or to yell at the football match on TV or to bicker about who gets to kiss tom goodnight with his daddy.

 

“tom, what is ‘deployed’?” liam is not a patient kid. he’s raising his eyebrows the way chris does. tom can handle impromptu change of plan in the meeting room _better_ than trying to tell his son that his daddy chris is going to be away for two years. to afghanistan. possibly engaging in lots of gunfights. tom might or might not be whimpering as he turns to his alpha for help.

 

chris doesn’t meet his eyes.

 

“liam, listen,” chris hooks his big, gorilla hands (courtesy of liam) to liam’s armpits and lifts him up off his lap. liam frowns, ready to protest, because sitting on his daddy’s lap is a must when it’s time to do his homework. chris bends his head to look at liam in the eye, clasps one big gorilla hand to liam’s neck, and tom is holding back his breath.

 

“listen carefully,” chris is using his scary daddy tone that liam hates so much—

 

“but but but liam is a good boy he got A for math, daddy! you get to kiss tom goodnight, liam won’t mind!”

 

—thus the third person narrative.

 

chris’ chuckle is loud and _pained._ tom wants to kiss it away.

 

“alright daddy will kiss tom tonight, thanks.” chris pinches liam’s chin and winks at tom. but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. liam sees it too and his frown stays. “liam, mate, ‘deployed’ means daddy will be gone for two years to afghanistan, so you have to promise daddy you will never, under any circumstances, make tom sad, do you hear me?”

 

“you do know ‘afghanistan’ right, love?” tom reaches out to stroke liam’s hair.

 

“yes, it’s a country just like england.” liam sounds like he can’t believe tom is underestimating his eight-year-old knowledge. but then he sounds like an eight year old in distress when he asks, “why do you have to go, daddy?”

 

chris exchanges a meaningful look with tom, and tom nods.

 

“well daddy is from united kingdom, right? united kingdom is sending daddy and daddy’s friends to help protecting afghanistan from the bad guys.”

 

“that’s all?”

 

“yes, that’s all.”

 

“like a hero?”

 

there’s a moment of hesitation clouding chris’ face, and it’s not because the innocent statement is wrong, but because chris is thisclose to lose his self-control and sign out from the honorable mission. if there is anyone in the world that liam loves more than tom, it’s chris, his daddy. and if there is anyone in the world that chris loves more than tom, it’s liam.

 

“sure,” chris puts his hand back to liam’s neck, “just like thor, your favorite superhero.”

 

“okay then.” liam shrugs, but the slight hitch on his voice doesn’t go unnoticed. liam climbs back to chris’ lap. “um, i’m sleeping with you tonight. so you have to kiss tom before we go to bed, okay?” chris’ delightful laugh is genuine this time. it echoes a promise of something more than just a kiss.

 

tom ducks his head to hide his blush.

 

“aw, why can’t i make tom blush prettily like you always do, daddy? it’s not fair,” liam grumbles, “i make girls blush everyday but never tom—wait!” liam jerks and bumps the back of his head against chris’ nose. he doesn’t seem to be bothered by his daddy’s pout because he’s too busy screaming does it mean i get to kiss tom every night for two years?!

 

“huh.” chris is rubbing his nose. “if you put it that way—” but liam interrupts him with a very energetic _cool!_ and tom can do nothing but to giggle at his family’s antics.

 

they’ll be fine.

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

or not.

 

because in the first month after chris is gone, liam loses weight.

 

followed by falling grades.

 

and skipping school altogether, according to liam’s homeroom teacher who visits tom’s workplace on a friday evening.

 

sure tom is the one person—not parent, liam is so cute indeed—that liam loves, but tom is not familiar with the art of approaching sulky eight year old when it comes to everyday father and son bonding. that’s chris’ job. he’s just an expert for being the sole recipient of liam’s excessive feeling.

 

“talk to him while playing catch,” emma says via skype. she’s currently handling the hotel’s branch in jeju island. “take him to a chelsea match. cook his favorite food. brother, you can do it. don’t be too intimidated by your own flesh and blood!”

 

at least she’s laughing with him, not at him.

 

“heh heh, yeah about that,” tom pulls the lapels of chris’ burgundy sleeping robe tighter to his chest and rests his chin on chris’ pillow. “do you think liam is acting up because he misses his daddy?”

 

“i guess so,” emma nods, “it will take time to get used to chris’ absence. that’s understandable. but i thiiink you should be more concerned about the _why_ liam is neglecting school. i recall he _loves_ going to school.”

 

“oh god yes he does,” tom giggles remembering how a simple marriage promise had made liam agreed to continue going to kindergarten and now, primary school. “thanks for the input, em, do you have...any problem you want to share?”

 

“naaah, you know my ordinary beta woman life,” emma waves her left hand to the screen, “but thanks for asking you well-mannered big brother! you should go to bed, i know it’s late in london. _annyeonghaseyo_ , tom! _ciao_!”

 

/ / / 

 

liam’s been pretending to be sick for days, lazing around on tom’s office leather sofa playing games on his muted tablet and massaging tom’s shoulders every once in a while, claiming that he got attacked by tummy worm but refusing to down any meds for it. tom takes liam to have dinner at their usual family restaurant that weekend, intending to lure liam to succumb to the restaurant’s killer spaghetti meatball so liam will spill everything.

 

“how’s your tummy?” tom asks the unassuming, preliminary question.

 

“alright.” liam looks bored. tom brings a dr. seuss book instead of his tablet for the occasion, and liam doesn’t even glance at it.

 

“good,” tom holds back the urge to sigh, because he’s read it somewhere that parents should never never ever sigh in front of their children. sighing can be translated as dad-and-mum-are-disappointed-in-me in children’s language. if anything, tom’s unverbalized sigh should be translated as i’m-disappointed-with-myself kind of sigh anyway.

 

tom’s palms are damp.

 

“so liam,” he clears his throat and adds as an afterthought, “ _love,_ don’t you miss school? you’re absent for a week.”

 

“issokay,” liam mumbles, slumping to the booth. he looks so _small._ that’s impossible. liam is the tallest and the biggest kid on his grade, tom knows because liam never fails to brag about it.

 

(though tom is suspicious that liam only brags to make sure tom is aware that liam will grow up as tall and big as chris.)

 

but but but that’s not the point! tom can’t take it anymore!

 

“oh liam,” he gets up and sits next to his son, “are you being like this because you miss daddy?” tom tries to keep his tone light, not wanting to reveal his frustration. “if daddy found out about you skipping school _and_ not doing your homework, he wouldn’t be happy with you, love.”

 

liam sighs, and that’s more than enough to make tom sad.

 

“because i always do homework with daddy.” liam doesn’t look up from his intense glaring to the poor salt and pepper and their table number. “but daddy won’t be home for a long time, tom, don’t you get it?” liam directs his glare to tom and tom has to sink his blunt nails to his forearms, a painful reminder that he’s not allowed to cry.

 

“so you’re not going to do your homework at all?”

 

“i will when daddy is home.”

 

“uhhh so you’re, you’re piling them up until daddy’s home?”

 

“yup.”

 

wait. that’s. that’s surprisingly simple.

 

maybe tom can do this.

 

“how about while daddy is away, you do your homework with me?”

 

“nope. your lap is incomfortable, tom.”

 

“ _un_ comfortable, love, and aw! what are you talking about, you never know if you never try!”

 

liam is making a face at his proposition. that’s a progress.

 

“come here,” tom pats his lap—bony lap, fine, if it’s compared to chris’ meaty thighs. but still. “go on, don’t let me down.”

 

maybe the restaurant’s lights are playing tricks on him, but is that a blush dusting liam’s cheeks?

 

“just this one time,” liam shuffles to his feet and sits carefully on tom’s lap as if he’s minding his weight. if tom doesn’t know any better, he might have been swooned.

 

tom snakes his arms around liam’s waist and nuzzles his nose to liam’s sturdy back, inhaling his son’s distinctive pine forest after the rain scent. liam is sitting like a statue. he’s so cute.

 

“good?” tom bounces his legs twice to break down the tension. liam leaps out of his lap and knocks his knees against the table.

 

tom apologizes because he’s giggling at liam’s misery.

 

“fine liam will go to school and do his homework!” liam pouts, looking very much like chris and is flushing red from the root of his hair down to his neck. “why did you make me sit on your lap, tom? you’re supposed to be the one sitting _on mine_ when i’m older!”

 

tom’s tears are falling down, thanks to how hard he’s laughing. they’ll be fine for real. tom just needs to marry his own son in the future.

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

chris prefers letters as their form of communication during his serving time in afghanistan, and tom finds himself being dragged to tesco by liam to purchase a lot of fancy letter papers. fancy, as in, colorful and illustrated and scented. liam chooses the ones with ‘daddy’ decorations in the form of bear family having an afternoon tea, a little duckling smiling and quacking ‘daddy’, and/or robots; as long as they have ‘daddy’ written in brash fonts.

 

liam updates about school, his new bruises, tom’s ‘cuteness’ of the day, and he asks chris about the kids in afghanistan. are they just like in the google, daddy? do the girls wear veils? how about their eyes? are they all chocolate? daddy do they have chocolate in afghanistan? do you like their food? will you cook afghanistan food for me when you come back? and that one hilarious time liam writes this,

 

_Daddy I finalLy bought Tom a ring. when i’m seventeen I’m gonna marry tom._

  _P.S. You can be my BEST Man._

 

which gets chris’ badly drawn heart cracked in two as a reply. no words. just that drawing.

 

(tom pins the drawing to the refrigerator with a mini thor’s mjolnir magnet, liam’s very first mundane stuff that he bought with his own pocket money.

 

thor is liam’s favorite superhero, remember?)

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

tom is busy handling three hamleys plastic bags plus liam’s neglected backpack while keeping an eye of liam who is also busy reading the _airfix battle front_ manual instruction, not minding where he goes. today is take-a-bus day for them. tom can’t hail a cab because that violates the take-a-bus code and liam will give him a lecture about the importance of sticking to the rule. chris found out the hard way when he cheated on their no-pouting-day.

 

“liam, love, would you please giv—”

 

a helpful hand beats tom, and tom gasps at the man standing before him.

 

“id?!” he blinks. “it’s really you!” he lets idris take two plastic bags and he leans to hug his old friend. idris still smells like coffee beans and rum when their bodies touch. it’s been a long time.

 

“when did you come back from dublin?” tom takes idris’ left elbow and steers them away from the crowded street. they stand by hamleys’ newly set up, japanese giant cat robot. “wait a minute i have to find my son,” tom grins as he catches liam looking confused that tom is no longer following behind him.

 

“liam! over here!” tom shouts and waves his free arms and liam approaches with a frown.

 

“who is this, tom?” he nods towards idris.

 

“mind your tone, love, this is mr. elba,” tom offers an apologetic smile to idris as he elaborates, “mr. elba is my friend from uni. he’s a doctor.” thankfully, idris just seems to be so fascinated by liam.

 

“hey there, big guy,” idris bends down and holds out his right hand, “nice to meet you.”

 

liam squares his shoulders and he actually _pops out_ his chest before he shakes idris’ hand. tom appreciates that idris doesn’t mention a thing about the cute display of possessiveness. do note that tom is never embarrassed by his son’s act, but avoiding unnecessary tantrum is always a good deal.

 

(even though it’s the truth. liam likes to see himself as a, just like idris’ said, big guy.)

 

“he has your father’s eyebrows.” idris’ smile is clearly reminiscing. “but he sure is the carbon copy of your alpha.”

 

tom feels his body is warming up at the mention of chris. he smiles fondly at liam and pinches liam’s chin. “yes, he is, isn’t he?” liam digs it anyway, being recognized as his daddy’s twin, that is.

 

“how’s your alpha, by the way? i hope he’s alright out there.”

 

“he’s coming home in seven months. we should get a drink sometime, id, take your omega with you. or your beta.”

 

“doubt that i’ll be settling in anytime soon, work is keeping me,” idris shakes his head, but his tone is nonchalant. that’s good. “i’m just taking care of some business in london for a few days. i’m heading back to dublin next week. but sure, we should get a drink sometime.” he fishes out his card wallet and gives one for tom.

 

“mr. elba what are you doing? tom is mine.” liam is narrowing his eyes at idris’ name card, as if that’s a marriage proposal of some kind. he steps right in front of tom, shielding him.

 

idris’ booming laugh is bringing back memories for tom. only the pleasant ones.

 

“duly noted.” idris gives liam a salute and the way he looks at liam reminds tom how badly he had wanted to have idris’ last name and children. he was so ready to give up his position as the hotel heir, too.

 

“tom, where did you park your car?” idris takes him back to present time with a gentle question. “or did you commute here? if so, i can give you a lift home.”

 

“oh no, it’s okay. today is take-a-bus day for us,” tom rubs liam’s nape, “liam, tell mr. elba that you’re grateful for his offer.”

 

“thank you for your consideration mr. elba, but we have to take the bus,” liam mimics idris’ salute and idris seems like he can’t stop smiling at whatever it is that liam does. even when liam is currently scanning his casual appearance from head to toe.

 

“mr. elba you’re awesome. would you like, ummm,” liam rummages through one of the plastic bags and takes out a glow in the dark, green colored, jelly-like stegosaurus. he grabs idris’ left palm and puts the toy there. “a friendship tolkien, mr. elba, please do not lose it!”

 

 _“‘tolkien’?”_ idris squeezes the soft toy and before tom can explain, he already decodes another liam and mispronouncing., co episode. idris’ handsomely aged face lights up like liam just said the most brilliant thing _ever._

 

“of course, big guy! i’ll treasure this.” idris sends a complimenting parenting done right! look at tom, who is already swelling with pride. “i don’t have anything awesome for you at the moment, but here,” idris unclasps a simple white gold cufflink from the left sleeve of his white shirt. “this way, we can remember each other. when you’re old enough to have a drink, let me know.”

 

liam nods and holds up his hand for a fistbump and he grins at tom because look, tom, mr. elba is really awesome! he fistbumps with me!

 

“it’s really nice to see you again, good doctor, sir.” tom makes sure liam wears the cufflink right on the lapel of his decepticon hoodie before helping liam to take care of his backpack. his fingers brush with idris’ when he takes over the three plastic bags, and tom is glad that the electricity is no longer persistent, unlike decades ago when they were still young and foolish and too in love. liam wouldn’t have been here if he was still involved with idris, and tom doesn’t even _want_ to think about his liam-less life. idris gave him a wonderful past, the only alpha besides chris who didn’t care about his status, and it was really unfortunate that they had to separate because of—

 

ah...well.

 

“have a good day, tom,” idris nods for the last time and tom wishes him the same. he makes a mental note to let liam hang out with idris whenever he’s back in london next time. liam doesn’t label every adult he just meets as ‘awesome’.

 

“see you mr. elba!”

 

 

 

✖

 

 

 

chris calls on liam’s tenth birthday, and liam cries like a baby the second tom passes the phone to him, hiccuping and snorting about chelsea and h-h-how much i miss you why are you so skinny on your photos, daddy?—and because the call is set on speakerphone, tom can make out that it’s hard for chris too because chris needs an exact nineteen seconds to reply that i do miss you more, liam, love—that i don’t even miss tom, do you know that?

 

tom laughs/whines in disbelief. but it’s okay.

 

“i’ll be home soon,” chris is sniffing. it’s probably the sand and afghanistan hot weather. “okay, _habibi_? hang in there.”

 

“what’s _habibi_?” liam asks as he crawls to tom’s bony lap. “i like how it sounds, daddy.”

 

“you should,” chris chuckles, “my beloved.”

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
